


Alphabet Soup

by Tipsylex



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-01-28 03:23:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 11,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12597072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tipsylex/pseuds/Tipsylex
Summary: John was on another mission; another day that found him in the midst of a fight, trying to avoid being beaten up and trying to dodge any bullets aimed in his direction.26 letters of the alphabet, 26 individual stories.





	1. A is for Always

**Author's Note:**

> 26 letters of the alphbet, hopefully 26 individual stories, some longer than others as a writing excersise for me.  
> I have no idea how to tag this.  
> Not beta'd so any and all mistakes are my own

John was on another mission; another day that found him in the midst of a fight, trying to avoid being beaten up and trying to dodge any bullets aimed in his direction. Through the ear wig Harold could hear everything. He could tell from the sounds that John made, if he was hitting his target or was being hit himself. He tried not to make any sound as he listened in, knowing that any noise could cause John to be distracted and then who knew what might happen.

It was bad enough listening to the sounds of flesh hitting flesh but the worst part for Harold was the sound of gun shots. Occasionally he questioned the reasons for sending John out into what sometimes became a very hazardous situation. In the often long silences that followed the gun fire, he feared the worst, wondering if John had been shot. Was he unconscious or dead? Every time he wondered if each mission would be the last. Too many times John had returned battered and bleeding and Harold would have to tend to his injuries.

He would only relax once he’d heard John’s voice asking. ‘Finch, are you there?’ 

Only then would he breathe a sigh of relief before answering ‘Always, Mr Reese, Always’.


	2. B is for Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harold was speechless, his mouth went dry and his heart skipped a beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by CreativeInsight

John looked at the meagre collection of clothing laid out on the bed. It wasn’t much but it was more than he’d had when he was homeless. He’d thought about the job Finch was asking him to do. He could do it; he’d had enough training to do the job in his sleep. 

Running his fingers through his freshly cut hair, he sighed. There was no other choice, what he had he’d have to wear until he hopefully got paid and could buy more. The jeans and jacket had seen better days but they were clean and comfortable. He dressed quickly and left to meet Finch.

Harold eyed John as he approached him. He didn’t like the way John was dressed. Jeans and leather jackets had their place but not when working for him. He needed to do something about it but it would have to wait until they had wrapped up the current case.

As they walked and talked about the mission and how John would work it, Harold’s mind was working out how he would like John to dress.  
It would have to be a suit, but what colour, what style? He liked his employees to look their best. Dillinger had worn black suits but he wasn’t sure that that would suit John, after all Dillinger had been blonde, John was dark haired with a rather fetching smattering of grey. His thoughts stalled for a moment, when had he noticed his hair? 

After the case had wrapped up Harold had invited John back to the library. He led him into a back room where he’d hung a suit. John hadn’t wanted to wear it at first but Harold had insisted that in Manhattan at least the suit would allow him to blend in and hide in plain sight. ‘Think of it as a uniform, if that makes you feel better about accepting it’ Harold had said.

He’d left John to change, when he came out Harold appraised the look of it. The green suit with the grey shirt fitted nicely. The cut of the jacket allowed ease of movement and covered the bulge of the gun John kept tucked in the waistband at his back. But there was something missing. Before Harold could figure out what it was another number came in and John left to take care of things. 

While John was gone Harold pondered on the suit. The green looked good but it was not good enough. John’s tanned skin and blue eyes needed a different colour he decided. There were the thoughts of John’s looks again, just when had he noticed his eyes were blue he wondered. A few days later Harold showed John a blue suit and left him to try it on. This one fitted better if that was possible. Harold watched John from a distance as he left the building on the way to take care of the next number, the suit looked good but something was still not right.

Harold was determined to make John look the best he could. He wanted something that would complement and accentuate John’s good looks while still allowing him to blend in. He offered John an array of shirts in a variety of subtle colours but none seemed to feel right, it was true that the dark colours hid the blood stains but that wasn’t a good enough reason to stick with them. Harold went away to consider what should come next. 

In the end he reluctantly gave John a black suit and white shirt, he had held off on this combination, as he’d not wanted to compare John to Dillinger. But he needn’t have worried John put on the suit and paraded to show Harold how it looked. Harold was speechless, his mouth went dry and his heart skipped a beat. 

Tanned skin, open collar and the way John posed made Harold's pulse race. This was perfect, smart, sophisticated, the fabric shouted quality. John knew how to pose to give the best effect. Harold doubted that anyone could say no to a man who looked this good and he wasn’t sure he could either. 

As John went off on another mission, Harold contacted Giovanni, he was going to need a lot more suits…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by a conversation on one of the Facebook POI groups awhile ago, where someone who'd been involved with the show said that John's black suit and white shirt were chosen as a direct response to the reactions the females on set had had to Jim Caviezel in the black and white outfit.


	3. C is for Carousel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He didn’t really like fun fairs; they were too noisy and too crowded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set sometime before Nathan's death and Harold's injuries.

Harold wondered, not for the first time that day, why he had let Nathan talk him into accompanying him and his son Will to the fun fair. He didn’t really like fun fairs; they were too noisy and too crowded. He didn’t much care for the smells of the food vendors either; he preferred to eat quietly at home or in some high end restaurant, not like this. He scowled at the hot dog he was holding. He was sure that there was very little actual meat in it let alone (God forbid) any dog.

But he’d tried to humour Will, at 10 years old he was excited at having both his father and favourite uncle giving him their undivided attention. He’d dragged his father onto the helter skelter, tried his hand at shooting ducks and the hoop-la. Harold knew the odds of winning at any of the activities were stacked against the person taking part but he dutifully smiled and praised Will at his attempts to win yet another stuffed animal.

Then there was the candy floss, more food in the form of deep fried ice cream (how was that even possible?) and doughnuts. Harold’s stomach lurched at the thought of more soft sugary drinks that would surely leave Will sick later on.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by Will’s excited shouts, “Dad! Uncle Harold! Come on” The youngster had grabbed both men by their sleeves and was pulling them towards the carousel. 

“We have to go on it” Will was looking at both of them, his eyes shining, a big grin on his face. 

Nathan held up his hand and said, “Your turn Harold, I did the helter skelter”

Harold frowned at Nathan and reluctantly climbed aboard the carousel behind Will. He wanted to sit in one of the cars but Will insisted they sit on the horses. The carousel began to move and Harold, at Will’s urging, dutifully waved at Nathan every time they passed him. 

Nathan smiled and waved back, happy that he’d managed with Will’s help to get Harold out of the office and into the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recipe for deep fried ice cream can be found here  
> http://www.taste.com.au/recipes/deep-fried-ice-cream/417de670-8b6b-43ce-b0db-a7cc66bc9722


	4. D is for Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harold sat watching the steady rise and fall of John’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've changed the rating and warnings for this and future parts

Harold sat watching the steady rise and fall of John’s chest. Every so often it seemed to stop and Harold would begin to panic. John was lying in this bed because of him. He’d sent him out on a mission which though resolved had left John mortally wounded. Now it was a just a matter of time. With a heavy heart Harold had carried out his lovers last wishes. They’d discussed what would they do if they were in this very position. John had stated that he didn’t want to live his life with machines keeping him alive. It wasn’t living he’d said, it was existing. He’d made Harold promise that if ever he was so badly injured that there was no chance of his survival, he would let him go. 

So Harold had brought John home to his loft and made him as comfortable as he could. He’d talked and talked and talked, John’s eyelids had fluttered at the sound of Harold's voice a few times but he never truly woke up.

Time was running out, Harold was holding John’s hand, the tears flowing freely down his face. As he had touched John’s face, the worry lines in his brow had softened. Leaning over Harold placed a kiss on John’s cheek, it felt warm, and there was just a hint of his stubble coming through. John’s lips parted and Harold kissed him again, willing him to live but as he did so he felt John’s last breath leave his body and enter his. Breaking the kiss Harold rested his face on John’s chest and wept over the death his partner.


	5. E is for Examine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a good chance he was bleeding, perhaps a gun shot or knife wound; there would be bruises and possibly a cracked rib or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has read and left a comment so far, I really appreciate it.

Harold sighed as he got the first aid kit ready for John’s return from a successful mission. He’d heard the fighting and gunshots over the ear wig so what state he would be in Harold could only guess.

He had virtually given up on asking John if he was ok, his stock answer was always ‘I’m fine’ even when he wasn’t. The sound of gunfire always sent a shiver down his spine and invoked a spark of guilt at sending John out on a mission that invariably ended up in a fight of some sort. It frustrated him that John would often rush in without a thought for his own safety, especially when there were children or women involved.

Over time he’d learnt to tell how much pain John was in from the sound of his voice. But today his voice held no clue so Harold set out everything. There was a good chance he was bleeding, perhaps a gun shot or knife wound; there would be bruises and possibly a cracked rib or two. He had got used to patching John up and had become quite adept at suturing. 

He paused in arranging the things he would need as he heard a quiet bark from Bear signalling John’s arrival. Without turning round he told John to sit down and remove his jacket. He heard the rustle of clothing and the creak of the stool as John did as he was told and sat. Harold turned around and looked at John. 

He was speechless, Johns shirt showed no sign of blood, his shoes were clean, his trousers and jacket intact. John was smiling at him. Harold stepped closer, reaching out he gently took John’s chin in his hand and moved it side to side, no bruises. Next he stepped behind John, placing his hands on his shoulders he prodded and poked, no reaction from John. He ran his hands down Johns back; John held his breath as Harold's hands moved, feeling the warmth of them through his shirt.

Coming back to stand in front of John, he pulled at his shirt collar, peering inside. He heard John's breathing hitch. In a hoarse voice John said “Harold, what are you doing?”

Harold looked into John’s blue eyes and realised that his touches might have been unwelcome. “Oh” he said and stepped back. “I was examining you for injuries”.

“I told you I was fine” John smiled, amusement sparkled in his eyes.

“Yes well excuse me for not believing you”, he replied and turned back to the table to put the un needed things away, John stood and took hold of his wrist stopping him, gently he pulled him closer.

He leaned forward and whispered “I don’t have to be injured for you to examine me Harold” 

Harold blushed as John’s warm breath touches his cheek, closely followed by his lips pressed to Harold’s own.


	6. F is for Fantasy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has a guilty secret

John has a guilty secret; he fantasises about his boss. He knows that he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself. Harold isn’t like any other man he’s ever worked for. He only expects John to do the job he’s asked to do with as little violence as possible. 

Some nights, when there are no stake outs, he returns to the loft, too tired to do little more than shower and fall into bed, sometimes to sleep a dreamless sleep and sometimes he sleeps only to be woken by nightmares.

When the nightmares wake him, he is disorientated, heart racing, gasping for breath, the bed sheets tangled around his long legs. He would untangle himself, get up and walk around the loft, checking that the doors and windows were secure. Old habits die hard, his training was so ingrained. But eventually he would relax and go back to bed.

When the nightmares kept him awake; he needed a distraction from the dark thoughts in his head. Then he would indulge in his fantasies involving Harold.

He would start by getting comfortable on his bed, the cool sheets draped over his body. He would close his eyes and imagine that Harold was there, sitting on the edge of the bed. He liked the sound of Harold’s voice and he would imagine Harold talking to him, calming him down with soothing words.

Soon John’s heart rate would start to rise; his cheeks would flush with desire as he imagined Harold’s words changing from his normal vocabulary to something more base, crude and erotic. He imagined Harold telling him that he wanted to kiss him and touch his body all over. How he’d like to mark him with love bites and play with his nipples. How he’d like to push him down onto the mattress and fuck him till he screamed his name as he came.

As the fantasy takes hold and his orgasm approaches his hands move lower to his groin, stroking and squeezing his erection, cupping his balls as he imagines Harold's warm hands holding him and sliding over the tip of his shaft, smearing the pre come leaking from it. Deep in the throes of his fantasy he would imagine Harold's tongue licking up the underside of his cock, his warm mouth slowly covering the head of his penis, sliding up and down sucking as he did so. 

John moans Harold's name as at last his orgasm washes over him and he rides the crest of the wave of pleasure he feels all the time wishing Harold was really there with him. 

“If only….” He murmurs as he finally drifts off to sleep.


	7. G for Guilty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harold is a guilty man, not guilty in the sense that he had committed any crimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta'd by CreativeInsight

Harold is a guilty man, not guilty in the sense that he had committed any crimes, more guilty in his own mind over things he’s done or not done throughout his life.

He felt guilty that he had left his father in a care home and had never gone back to see him. True, the government was looking for him at the time and it was dangerous to go, but it didn’t make him feel any less guilty.

At university he occasionally felt guilty accepting sex from some of his female class mates in return for coaching sessions on their course work.

And then there was Nathan. After university he’d tried to make Harold feel guilty about not sharing in some of the socialising done to promote their joint business interests. But the truth was that Harold was happy to take a back seat and let Nathan press the flesh.

Then after the ferry bombing he’d felt guilty he’d survived the blast that had killed Nathan and others. He realised then, when he’d heard two agents talking, that the government were making sure no one knew about the machine. Luckily they didn’t know of his involvement, so he pretended to be among the dead. And that was his worst guilt trip, disappearing from Grace’s life, allowing her to think that he had been washed out to sea.

On his own he couldn’t help everyone, his injuries limited his abilities. He employed an ex-soldier, Rick Dillinger to help him but he was a bad choice, disrespectful, arrogant and greedy, ultimately he’d ended up dead. Harold didn’t feel guilty about burying him but he did regret the loss of life. 

Every number lost piled a little more regret and guilt on Harold; he doubted that he would ever find a suitable replacement for Dillinger. But then the machine pointed him at someone who appeared to be a bum. The bum it turned out was the person he’d been looking for. 

John was everything Dillinger wasn’t. Though he refused to call him ‘Mr’, Finch, he was at least respectful to him and didn’t feel the need to sleep with every female he saved. He’d felt guilty about being unable to save Jessica from her abusive husband. Then felt guilty because, even though he promised not to lie to John, he failed to tell him that he hadn’t been able to save Jessica.

For a while Harold’s feelings of guilt diminished. The numbers came regularly; he and John were kept busy so there was no time for feelings of guilt. But in the quiet times the feelings would return. This time it was John he felt guilty about. Harold discovered that he was growing closer to John than he would have liked. It wasn’t professional to feel about him the way he did. He hadn’t reached the stage of fantasising about him but he did feel guilty that he had some feelings towards John.

He felt guilty because he wasn’t gay, definitely not gay. He’d never felt anything towards other men. True there hadn’t been many women except for Grace, since his university days, but he’d had his share of sexual experiences. So when he finds himself looking at John’s arse as he bends over to stroke Bear he feels guilty. 

He feels the same when he looks at John’s body as he patches him up after yet another fight. He feels guilty that he wants to touch the tanned skin in something other than a detached professional manner. He hopes that John hasn’t noticed the way his eyes watch how he cleans his guns, his movements akin to a caress. His moan causes John to look up from his gun, asking if anything’s wrong. He shakes his head and mutters something about extra pain hoping that John will go back to his cleaning and not come over to him. His hand is in his lap covering his guilty erection, willing it to go away before he has to stand up and pretend to fetch his pain killers.


	8. H is for Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> go home he said but where is home?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta'd by CreativeInsight

John leaves the library with Harold's words ringing in his ears “go home Mr Reese, go do whatever it is you do when you’re not here”.

Once outside he stops, go home he said but where is home? 

As a child his home had been various army camps as his father was posted to different places, different countries. He and his sister had become very good at packing and unpacking. It was probably here that he learnt not to carry non-essential things from place to place.

He stands in front of the apartment building, where Finch had given him the keys to a very large loft, looking up he can see his windows. It was the biggest space he’d occupied in a very long time. The open plan arrangement had been difficult to come to terms with at first; he’d been used to sharing in the army. In the CIA it had been all about small hotel rooms and cramped places. The family home that his mother and sister had lived in had ceased to feel like home even before their deaths, after there was no home to go to.

After leaving the CIA and losing Jessica he became truly homeless, living on the streets slowly drinking himself to death. Lucky for him Joan found him and gave him some help, looking after him and for a while she became his family, the warehouse became his home.

He smiled, when he first began working with Harold he’d moved around a lot, a flop house here, a cheap motel there. It didn’t matter that Harold was paying him an exorbitant amount of money. With it he could have bought a place anytime he wanted but he chose to give most of it away, and then Harold had given him this loft for his birthday. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had remembered his birthday. 

He walks to the entrance and goes up to his front door. Inside he hangs up his coat, makes himself coffee and sends out for takeaway. He sits on the sofa and looks around the room. The place is tidy, bed made with a military precision, he has few possessions, and the loft looks unlived in. But though comfortable the place didn’t feel like home. 

Home had people in it, conversation, laughter and a relaxed atmosphere. It was where friends met and ate together. On a whim he activated his earwig “Finch are you there?”

Harold’s reply was almost instant; John smiled as Harold said “Always John. What do you need?”

John hesitated taking a deep breath he said, “I was wondering Finch.. Harold if you would like to join me for dinner? It’s only takeout but...”

There was a pause at the end of the line, John thought Harold had cut the connection, and then he heard him take a breath, “I’d like that Mr Reese… John, it will take me a few minutes to get there”.

Shortly Harold arrived with a bottle of very fine wine closely followed by the takeout. They enjoyed a quiet meal together and later after Harold had gone to his own home John relaxed, Harold was his family now and the loft finally felt more like a home.


	9. I is for Indestructible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John tried to smile as Harold worked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by CreativeInsight

Harold sighed; John was pretty badly beaten up again. Along with the usual cuts and bruises there were a couple of cracked ribs and a twisted ankle. 

Harold had watched in horror as John crashed through the second story window with the number. He’d rushed to the window fearing that John had landed on the pavement; he was relieved to see that John had in fact landed on the perpetrator who in turn had landed on a car roof. John had slid off and shrugged his shoulders in an “it’s ok” attitude when he saw Harold looking out of the window. He grimaced at the pain in his ribs and ankle once Harold had disappeared back inside. 

Harold had helped him back to their car and driven them to the nearest safe house. John had remained quiet in the car, breathing made his ribs hurt. Harold helped John inside and settled him down. He got out the first aid kit and set about tending to John’s injuries. 

John tried to smile as Harold worked. He wanted to hold Harold close to him and assure him that he was ok, but Harold was staying just out of reach. 

Finished, Harold put away the first aid kit and turned to face John, he stepped closer. He huffed out a breath, reaching for John he put his hands on each side of his head and brought their foreheads together. He remained still for a few moments then he pulled back and looked into John’s eyes. What he saw made his face flush, even injured and in pain John’s eyes were dilated with desire.

Harold tilted John’s head up slightly and placed a kiss on his cheek. “You know John”, he said as he kissed the other cheek, “you aren’t Superman”. He kissed along his jawline, small feathery kisses as he continued, “and you aren’t indestructible, I’d prefer to keep you alive and in one piece”. He looked into John’s eyes once more and captured his lips in a searing kiss.


	10. J is for Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He picked up the small black box and slipped it into his pocket

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has read and commented, I really appreciate the encouragement.
> 
> Beta's by CreativeInsight

It was that time of year again when one of Harold’s aliases, Harold Crane, had to attend the first of many fundraisers. As usual Harold didn’t really want to go, but his mood was tempered by the fact John would be there by his side as always, ready to assist at a moment’s notice.

He had dressed with care; John looked magnificent in his suit. As usual the colours he wore brought out the colour in his eyes, enhancing his tan. He would turn more than a few heads tonight, Harold thought. He would have to keep an eye on things, not that Crane didn’t trust John, more he didn’t trust the females who would, as the song said, ‘come running just as fast as they can, cos every girls crazy for a sharp dressed man’. He felt a pang of jealousy as he contemplated the man in front of him. Oh what he wanted to do with him, but that would have to come later. 

He felt a rush of emotion when he thought about the little surprise he had for John. He picked up the small black box and slipped it into his pocket, he would give it to John after dinner, but for now he finished getting dressed.

Dinner was over and the people were mingling, Harold drew John to a side room where it was more private. Closing the door behind him, Harold stood close to John, taking out the small box he handed it to him.

John looked at it, “What’s this Harold?”

“Just open it John” he said

John did so; inside he found a small platinum ring engraved with a small bird. Harold's face flushed, he took the ring and holding John’s left hand he pushed the ring onto his little finger. John was quiet and then suddenly looked up and holding Harold tight he kissed him, hard on the lips. Breaking the kiss his voice was hoarse as he asked “What is this for Harold?”

Harold looked into John’s eyes, “it’s a statement ring John, it’s meant to send a message to anyone who thinks they might ……” he paused he didn’t want to give voice to his jealousy, the thought that John might be tempted by another person.

John smiled, he pulled Harold close to him, pressing their bodies together, and whispered “No one is getting into my pants tonight or any other night Harold, only you, only ever you. Now let’s go home before I do something I shouldn’t do in public”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'come running just as fast as they can, cos every girls crazy for a sharp dressed man' is from ZZ Top's 1983 song Sharp Dressed Man


	11. K is for Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John likes to kiss and be kissed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank everyone for your continued support, almost half way through the alphabet.

John likes to kiss and be kissed. He doesn’t mind if he is giving or getting the kisses. Overtime he has experienced all kinds, some soft and gentle, some rough and urgent. All parts of his body have been touched and kissed; he’s been kissed by and has kissed both men and women in the line of duty. When you went undercover you have to be prepared to do just about anything with anyone.

Up until recently he had thought he preferred a women’s kiss, their lips were mostly warm and soft, smooth with lipstick or gloss. He briefly thought of Jessica, her kisses had been sweet and gentle. Male kisses were different, firmer and rougher though occasionally there were still lips coated in lipstick or gloss. 

Since beginning to work with Harold there’d been a lot of kisses from women, thank you kisses pressed to his cheek as they hugged him for saving them. There were kisses too from Carter and Zoe Morgan and while all of these kisses were nice they didn’t make his heart skip a beat.

Since they had declared their feelings for each other he had kissed Harold at every opportunity. Every time his pulse would jump, he could feel the heat rise in his cheeks and his cock would swell with his arousal. It made John smile when sometimes Harold would huff in a way that told him he was uncomfortable with John’s public display of affection. But occasionally, when he was sitting on the sofa in the library, Harold would get up to make tea and, as he walked past, he’d place a kiss on John’s cheek. If John managed to time it right and turn his head, Harold would brush his lips across John’s own. 

But Harold saved the long lingering, passionate kisses for when they were alone in John’s loft. They would eat dinner and relax for a while, sitting close together, their legs touching. Harold would reach to John and turn his face towards him, pulling him down to kiss him. John would shift and turn so that he could kiss Harold back. The heat and passion of their kisses would deepen and they would move to the bed.

John would bend and kiss around Harold’s neck, inhaling his unique scent as he slowly undressed him. Then Harold would help him remove his own clothing, he would sit on the end of the bed, and while holding Harold close, Harold would kiss and suck at his neck, leaving love bites that would mark him for days. 

Once they had undressed each other they would lie in bed. Harold would stroke John’s cheek, moving down over his chest, pausing to roll his nipples between his fingers, and then he’d kiss them with gentle lips. 

John would touch Harold, whispering words for Harold's ears only. Their lovemaking would be unhurried, soft words and touches until the room would resonate with the sounds of their completion. Afterwards they would hold each other, tender kisses exchanged until they drifted off to sleep.


	12. L is for Lavender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John likes to tease Harold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I deleted the original chapter 12 L is forLavender because I wasn't happy with it. I guess posting at midnight without reading properly is a bad idea. I have rewritten the chapter and I think this is better.

In the beginning John was always trying to find out any little thing he could about Harold. It irritated him that Harold wasn’t forthcoming about the simplest of things.

It had taken him ages to work out what Harold liked to drink, checking the rubbish bin every day, noting down the places he bought his tea from, working out which was his favourite and what kind of tea it was.

One day he’d surprised Harold with his favourite green tea. He remembered how Harold had tensed up when he’d given it to him. He’d told Finch at the time, to relax it wasn’t as if he’d worked out his favourite colour.

Months later and their relationship has changed, now they were lovers. Lying in bed with Harold John loved to tease him. It was a game they played. John brings Harold almost to his climax and then stops at the crucial moment.

Harold moans at the loss of sensation.

“Come on Harold” he says smirking “tell me something about you I don’t know”.

Harold looks at John a smile on his face, “Never John, you’ll get nothing out of me”.

John moves his body closer to Harold rutting against his thigh. “Come on” he cajoles “tell me and you get this” he thrusts against Harold's thigh once more. “And more of this” he places his hand on Harold's cock slowly stroking along its length.

Harold squirms under John’s ministrations, the urge to come quickly building. Eventually Harold groans “ok, John, ok, I give in you win”.

John’s hand pauses, “Yes Harold?”

“Lavender, John, lavender”.

Puzzled John says “lavender?”

“Yes John, my favourite colour is lavender”.

John smiles and resumes his slow stoking of Harold's cock and soon the room is filled with the sounds of their completion.


	13. M is for Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dressing for a special night out with Harold always lifted John’s spirits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are at chapter 13, half way through the alphabet, from here onwards it's going to get harder. Especially Q, U, X and Z.
> 
> beta'd by CreativeInsight

Dressing for a special night out with Harold always lifted John’s spirits, especially if meant they could spend some quality time together. He sighed; the numbers were relentless sometimes giving them hardly time to eat and sleep let alone anything else.

So, tonight John wanted to impress Harold. His new suit was hanging in the closet and he knew that Harold would approve of the colour shirt he’d chosen; he would even be wearing a tie. It was something he mostly avoided as in his line of work; it was more of a liability than anything. It was a good job it wasn’t a bow tie he thought, he could field strip and re assemble almost any type of gun you’d care to name in the pitch black but bow ties defeated him.

Dressed he checked himself in the full length mirror, turning this way and that, checking that the trouser length was right, that his gun wasn’t obvious at his back. Lost in thought he posed recalling an undercover operation he’d done once, he remembered how to walk the catwalk.

Pleased with what he saw, he held up his hands and laughing he said “Mirror, mirror on the wall, whose the fairest of them all?”

He felt Harold's arms circle him from behind, a smile on his lips “Why you are of course”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to Snow White.


	14. N is for Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John stirred at his touch and turned to face him.

Harold awoke with a start, gasping for breath, his heart racing. Fumbling for his glasses in the dark he put them on and reached for the bedside lamp.

He was glad to see John was still sleeping beside him. He didn’t want to wake him but needed to touch to assure himself that he wasn’t imagining things. John stirred at his touch and turned to face him. 

“Harold, are you ok?” his voice soft in the dim light. He ran a finger along Harold’s jaw.

Harold took a deep breath and nodded.

“Nightmare?”

“Yes” Harold replied quietly.

“The same one, or a new one?”

Harold sucked in another calming breath. “The same one” he whispered.

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“John, I’ve told you this story so many times…”

“I know..” John replied “but talking about it helps”.

“It begins the same way every time, you’re on the roof and the Samaritan agents are shooting at you, and then…” he paused.

“Go on, Harold” John’s voice encourages him.

“An.. and then, there’s gunfire and you disappear from view and I have to leave because there’s a missile coming. Then there’s no more building and you’re gone forever”. Harold speaks slowly a tremor in his voice.

John’s voice was calm, “We defeated Samaritan, and I’m not dead, I’m here with you, always Harold”.

Harold smiles and reaches to touch John’s face but there’s no one there and it’s just another nightmare.


	15. O is for Oh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets a new suit.

Harold and John were at Harold’s favourite tailor in New York. Harold was insisting on getting John a new suit for an upcoming function they were to attend. Harold had taken ages choosing the right fabric, in the right colour. Now it was all about the cut and the fit.

John emerged from the dressing room in the jacket that Harold had chosen the fit was slimmer than John was used to. He twirled around showing Harold each side, undoing and re doing the button.

“Oh” Harold said and shifted in his seat.

John paused “Did you say something Harold?”

“No Mr Reese”, he paused “I think… I think the jacket with the side vents would look better. John, if you please?” he gestured to the dressing room.

John came out having swapped the jacket, this one was a little snugger across his shoulders, and the sides had been taken in a bit too. He repeated his actions, pausing for Harold to get a good view of the cut of the jacket.

Taking a deep breath, “Oh” he whispered “That’s better”.

John raised an eyebrow at Harold. Harold shrugged. “Try the trousers next John”.

Sighing John went once more into the dressing room, emerging a few minutes later. The trousers fitted him like a glove, slimmer cut in the leg. He struck a pose in front of Harold.

“How’s this Harold?” he asked.

“Ohh..” he stifled a moan. “Try the trousers with the cuffs, please”. Harold felt the heat rise in his face. 

Dutifully John retired into the dressing room. He came out wearing the cuffed trousers. Harold looked him up and down.

“Oh… oh yes” he said as he stood to look closer. “This will do very nicely”.

Harold watched the movement of John’s backside as he walked back to the dressing room. He ran a finger around his collar, was it him or was it getting warmer, he wondered. His mouth was suddenly dry, his heart rate increased. Looking around to make sure he wasn’t being observed Harold followed John into the dressing room.


	16. P is for Phone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luckily there was a big fluffy blanket curtesy of Harold, on the seat beside him; he would use that if he got cold.

John was on a stake out, the car was comfortable but as the night wore on he wished he could get out and stretch his legs. The night would get cooler and he wouldn’t be able to run the engine to keep warm. Luckily there was a big fluffy blanket curtesy of Harold, on the seat beside him; he would use that if he got cold. So far nothing was happening and he was becoming restless. All he could think about was Harold at home, in his bed, warm and cosy.

He shifted in his seat, contemplating phoning Harold just for something to do. Just then his phone chirped. He can see that it’s Harold; he puts the phone down and touches his earwig answering his call.

“Harold?” he said

“John, just checking in, are you ok?”

“Yes fine”, he smiled, it was good to hear Harold's voice, “where are you?”

“I’m at the loft”. 

John reclined the seat a little. Hearing the rustle of clothing he said “What are you doing?”

He could hear the smile in Harold’s voice as he replied “I’m getting ready for bed”.

“Good Harold, tell me what else you’re doing”. He closed his eyes imagining Harold sitting on his bed.

“I’m taking off my waistcoat”.

“How many buttons Harold, what colour?”

Harold huffed, “you know very well what colour John, you saw me in it earlier”.

“Humour me Harold, what colour is your waistcoat, how many buttons?”

Harold paused, tutting, “My waistcoat is dark blue, it has 6 buttons”.

“Nice Harold, very nice, now undo them slowly. Tell me when you’re done”.

John hears the sound of fabric moving and then Harold’s voice, “I’ve taken it off”.

“Now your shirt Harold slowly with the buttons”, he closes his eyes again, in his mind’s eye he can see Harold removing his shirt. “and the undershirt Harold” he says.

He pulls the blanket over his lap, his hand slides over his crotch, giving his cock a squeeze.

“Talk to me Harold, tell me what you are doing”.

“I’m undoing my belt, now I’m undoing the buttons on my fly”.

John bites his lip stifling a groan, he undoes his belt and fly and reaches in to touch the warm flesh hidden inside. John touches his cock and says with a raspy half whisper, “are you naked yet Harold?”

He hears Harold's breath hitch as he replies “yes John. I’m getting into bed now”. 

John palms his cock hearing the rustle of the bedclothes as Harold gets comfortable. 

“Harold?”

“Yes John”

“Touch yourself Harold, tell me what it feels like, tell me what you want”.

Harold waits a few moments before saying “John, are you doing what I think you are?”

John smirked “Yes Harold, now touch yourself, tell me what you like”. 

There is silence for a few long moments and then Harold’s voice, “I’m touching my cock, John, it’s hard and I’m stroking it. There’s pre cum leaking from the tip, I’m spreading it around the head of my cock. It feels good John, but not as good as when you take me in your mouth.

Harold hears a muffled groan from John, “Keep going Harold” he says, one hand cupping his balls as he tightens his grip on his cock with the other.

“I love the way you suck my cock” Harold whispers, “the way you swallow my length, letting me fuck your pretty mouth”.

“Harold?”

“Yes John?”

“Hold that thought, I’m on my way” he says as he disconnects the phone.


	17. Q is for Quickstep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You want me to wear these Harold? They don’t look very strong”.

Harold tapped the top of the box sitting on the table at the safe house. He was waiting for John to arrive. The door opened and John walked down the steps into the room. He greeted Harold with a smile.

Noticing the box he said, “What’s in the box Harold?”

Harold pushed the box towards John, “open it John it’s for you”.

“It’s for me? It’s not my birthday Harold”. He opened the box, inside was a pair of shoes. Lifting the shoes out of the box John looked at them they were very soft and shiny. He looked down at his own shoes, normally very clean; they were dusty from being outside.

“You want me to wear these Harold? They don’t look very strong”.

Harold picked up one of the shoes “they’re not, these are Italian patent leather shoes, handmade…..for dancing. I take it you can dance John”.

John smiled, “nope Harold not a step, I’m blessed with two left feet”.

“I thought you might say that so I’ve enlisted the help of Miss Morgan, she assures me that she can give you the basics of the quickstep by Saturday”.

“Wait a minute Harold; it’s Wednesday today, why do I need to know how to dance a quickstep by Saturday?”

Harold sighed “because we have a new number, his name is Alek Meyhr, and he’s a ballroom dancer, here for the competitions on Saturday. The only way to get close to him is enter the competition”.

“I hope you’ve got a pair of those shoes for yourself Harold”, Zoë said as she came in through the door. “You do know the competition is males only”. She smiled “one of you two boys will have to be the girl for the evening”.

They couldn’t decide, in the end Zoë decided for them. John should be the man and lead and Harold should do the female part. Her decision was based purely on the fact that John was taller. Harold led them through a door into a large empty room. They could practice there.

In between numbers on Thursday and Friday they practiced. John was right he had two left feet and it seemed that they were getting nowhere and them on Friday night they managed it almost perfectly. There was a knock at the door and Zoë went to answer it, two suits had been delivered for the competition. They tried them on and practiced some more. 

After dinner Zoë left with a cheery “See you tomorrow boys”. 

John wished he felt as confident as both Harold and Zoë. 

Saturday evening they sat on the sofa, John was nursing a very large whiskey. Zoë had been a big help. He smiled, his feet were sore and his back ached but it had been a good day all round. They had managed to protect Alek and had danced and won a small trophy for most promising beginners at quickstep. He raised his glass to Harold, who smiled at him and sighed, he would be glad to get back to normal tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not impossible for Harold even with his injuries to dance a quickstep though probably a tango which is much slower would be better.
> 
> There really are men only competitions in ballroom  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xDBzS1mx51I   
> Not quite the quickstep a tango.
> 
> http://www.ballroomdancething.com/2009/04/quickstep-basic-movement.html  
> basic steps for quickstep


	18. R is for Retirement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Better to quit while they could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone still reading and commenting, I really appreciate your support.
> 
> Beta'd by CreativeInsight

Retirement, that was a word that John had never thought would ever apply to him or to Harold for that matter. Right at the very beginning Harold had warned that one day, one or both of them would wind up dead, really dead.

It has been sometime since the defeat of Samaritan and the machines return. So it had come as a bit of a surprise when Harold had announced that he was giving up, handing the reins over to Shaw and Fusco who would continue saving the numbers with the machines help.

Later Harold had taken John aside and asked him to go with him. Their relationship had grown over the years, he knew he loved Harold, and was sure that Harold felt the same. Saying yes was a simple thing to do. John would miss the excitement of the action he knew, but there was no denying that his body was getting older, it took him longer to recover from his injuries. It was time for them to enjoy what time they had left together, exploring the depth of their feelings for each other. Better to quit while they could.

John was at his loft, he’d packed his few possessions, and they were in the car waiting for him to drive to the home Harold had bought for them. He stood in the middle of the room and slowly turned in a circle. Thoughts of all the things that had happened there crowded through his mind, some were good, some bad and some funny. His lips curled in a smile when he remembered Harold hiding in his closet which just happened to house his arsenal. He walked over to the windows and took a last look out at the park below, Shaw was going to take over the loft, he was glad about that. He put an envelope on the bed for her, keys to the closet and safe. Picking up his bag he left the loft for the last time, climbed into his car and drove to meet Harold and whatever the future held for them both.


	19. S is for Self

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello my name is John Reese.

“Ok John when you’re ready”, he nodded to the person sitting opposite him. A man by the interviewer’s side made a sign that he should start talking.

John looked straight into the camera. “Hello my name is John Reese… Actually that’s not quite true; one of names is John Reese. I have had many names over the years. You may have heard of some of them”.

John smiled, relaxing a bit. The interviewer had said he should just act natural, be himself. People wanted to hear about him, he was famous, a hero. He wasn’t sure he liked being called a hero.

“John, tell us a bit about yourself, the viewers would like to know your story”. The interviewer was smiling.

John blushed faintly, the attention he’d been getting was intense and he’d found it hard to deal with. He moved slightly in his seat and began again.

“Ok”, he said. “A lot of people have asked me about my life and what I have done up till this point in time. What can I say except I joined up, left, re-enlisted after the towers came down. Did some things I’m not proud of and things I can’t speak of....” he trailed off.

The interviewer said “It’s ok John, in your own time”.

John took a deep breath,” Someone I knew… that I was close too died, I hit rock bottom, I turned to booze. For months I lived on the streets, I had no money, I stole to get clothing, food and alcohol. I got arrested for punching a bunch of punks on the subway, they deserved it, terrorising people minding their own business, besides they tried to steal my whiskey”. He paused.

The interviewer watched John as he looked down to the floor. “John, what happened after you were arrested?”

John smiled as he looked up at her; he thought for a moment and then started to speak. “Some fancy lawyer got me out of the precinct, put me in a car. The car took me to see a man”.

“What was he like?”

“Harold?” John’s features softened. “Harold is or rather was a middle aged man with glasses and a funny haircut. But he was a kind man; he was a billionaire you know. But more importantly he was my saviour; he gave me a job, a reason to go on. He showed me that drinking myself to death wasn’t the answer and if I worked for him I could make a difference”. 

“And did you? Make a difference I mean”.

John nodded. “Yes, we made a difference to some people, their lives I hope are better because of what we did for them, even if they didn’t know it”.

“How many people did you help?”

“Between us? There were several hundred over the course of 5 years”.

The interviewer smiled, “What happened to Harold?”

Johns face clouded over, a look of sadness replaced the easy smile. “I believe he went to Italy to be with his fiancée but I don’t know for sure. I was injured and was in hospital for some time”, he shrugged, “we lost touch”.

“John, you said at the beginning that you have had many names over the years, would you care to tell us some of them?”

John thought for a few moments. “Well, I posed as a cop for a time, Stills was his name, then there was Riley also a cop. Wiley was an assets manager, there was Anderson, an actuary and Jennings who was a Marshall. There are others, some I used only once, some were used several times all of them though ultimately fake. 

“But you are more famous for something else aren’t you?”

John ran his hand through his hair, his face had flushed faintly, “Umm yeah, some people started calling me ‘The Man In The Suit”. He flashed a smile at the camera.

After a few more questions, the man beside the interviewer signalled the end on the session. The interviewer thanked him for coming and talking to her. She watched as John strode towards the exit, she would remember this man with his soft raspy voice, the salt and pepper hair, the piercing blue eyes and his dazzlingly seductive smile. It hadn’t been easy to get an interview with him, he didn’t like to talk about himself or to be called a hero, but he was at least in her eyes, after all he had saved her family at one time.


	20. T is for Tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did he want to sleep with Harold? His mind was unsure but his body said otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one this time. The letters are getting harder to find good words to use.
> 
> My thanks to everyone reading and commenting, I appreciate it very much.

John sat in his loft, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He was contemplating the things that were unfolding between him and Harold.

Their relationship had recently moved from mere colleagues to friends and would maybe go deeper. He has been experiencing a growing attraction to Harold and wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Even now sitting on his sofa his thoughts were centred on Harold, his cock gave an interested twitch. He had thought of himself as straight even though, when the job with the CIA had demanded it, he’d had occasion to sleep with men.

Did he want to sleep with Harold? His mind was unsure but his body said otherwise. He sighed; his mind was going in circles. He took a long swallow of his drink, lost in his thoughts. Tomorrow, he thought, tomorrow he would talk to Harold and find out how he felt.

He didn’t know that across town in another apartment, Harold was sitting quietly thinking about John and analysing how he felt about him. On a purely physical level he found John extremely attractive, he wanted to take their relationship to the next level, but he didn’t know how John felt. He decided that tomorrow he would talk to John and find out how far their relationship could go.


	21. U is for Union

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John moved with a predators grace, perfectly tuned to his surroundings

Their union when it finally happened took them both by surprise. They were certainly attracted to each other though neither had voiced their feelings.

Harold watched helplessly as John took a beating. He was zip tied to a chair, his mouth gagged. John was trying to rescue him and had been taken by surprise. That in itself was unusual, John moved with a predators grace, perfectly tuned to his surroundings catching him off guard never happened, that is until now. Harold felt badly that he was the cause of John’s distraction.

Eventually John had prevailed and Harold was released from the gag and zip ties. John, though battered and bruised had helped Harold out of the warehouse and into the waiting car. He drove like a mad man till they reached the safe house, once inside he relaxed.

Harold got the first aid kit and tended to John’s wounds. He looked into John's eyes; he saw a predatorial glint looking back at him. Harold swallowed and quietly said “thank you”

John shrugged; Harold was standing so close he could smell his aftershave and the unique scent that was Harold. He leaned forward, his lips brushing Harold’s ear, he whispered “You can thank me properly, Harold anytime you like”.

Harold felt his face flush but he didn’t move away. He had an idea what his answer would be but he had to ask the question anyway. “How?” he said, his own voice little more than a whisper.

John turned his face and looking straight into Harold’s eyes, “Like this” he said as he slowly kissed Harold’s lips. They were warm and soft, John’s tongue touched them, demanding entry, Harold’s lips opened and as their tongues touched a spark crossed between them.

Breathless John broke the kiss and taking Harold’s hand, led him in to the bedroom. Closing the door he kissed Harold again, suddenly there were hands everywhere, tugging at clothes, buttons pinging away from shirts as they sought to get naked. The room was soon filled with the sounds of urgent, frantic lovemaking. 

Later they lay in the bed, flushed from their exertions. Harold lay on his side and looked into John’s eyes. John looked back at him, the predator was still there, the hint of something dangerous tempered by their post orgasmic bliss, he smiled at Harold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not 100% happy with this one, I might re write it later, but I wanted to post something.


	22. V is for Voyeur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He couldn't help himself, John was just too interesting.

Harold liked to watch John. He moved with a feline grace that really shouldn’t be possible for a man his size. When he walked he had a fluidity of movement that made Harold just a tiny bit jealous. He was impressed by John’s ability to match his gait to Harold’s as they walked side by side.

He watched as much as he could without (he hoped) John noticing. The way he cleaned his guns, his long fingers grasping the gun barrels firmly had Harold’s heart racing.

What started out as watching him in the library and out on a mission (for safety) ended with Harold watching John even on his days off. He was worried that he was turning into a voyeur, but he couldn’t help himself, John was just too interesting.

Watching him in his loft Harold knew that John slept in the nude, that he would sometimes exercise in the apartment naked. He quietly appreciated the lines of John’s form, his tanned skin, the way his muscles moved as he bent and stretched. 

His favourite time to watch John though was when he emerged from his shower towelling his hair dry. Harold licked his lips, his eyes following the rivulets of water as they ran down John’s chest, over his taught stomach to be caught in the curls of hair in his crotch. Harold’s flushed cheeks paled as all of his blood headed south to pool in his groin. He pursed his lips together to avoid the moan caught in his throat from sounding out loud.

Continuing to watch, Harold’s breathing hitched up a notch as John, still naked, bent over to make his bed. He would like to get his hands on John’s arse, he thought. Harold watched as John sat on the edge of the bed with his back to him, he picked up the ear wig and put it in his ear. Then there was John’s low seductive voice whispering. “Are you there Finch?”

It took Harold a few moments to reply, his mouth was dry. “Always, John what do you need?”

“I’ve got a problem I need some help with” his voice was low, slowly John moved so that he was sitting in the middle of the bed, he stretched and parted his legs and Harold saw his hand wrapped around his cock. John looked directly at the camera and smirked “do you think you can help me?”

“I’ll… I’ll be right there John” he stammered, Harold realised, blushing furiously, that somehow John had known that he was watching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm assuming that the big windows in John's loft are one way glass, he can see out but no one can see in.


	23. W is for Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He sat on the huge white sofa and poured himself a large drink.

Excited John paced in their suite of rooms at the hotel. Today had been one of such peace and joy that he thought his heart would burst, he was so happy. Everything had been perfect, the weather, the arrangements, the food, music and even the dancing. There had been more guests than either of them thought would attend. Now he was waiting for Harold to return.

He sat on the huge white sofa and poured himself a large drink. Sipping it his eyes alighted on the new ring he was wearing. He put down his glass, and touched the ring. It was platinum like the other one Harold had given him some months before. The statement ring was still on his left hand, this one was on the third finger of his right. He took the ring off; he felt tears forming in his eyes as he read the Latin inscription that was engraved on the inside.

‘in saecula saeculorum’ 

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t hear Harold come in and stand behind him. He leant over and whispered in John’s ear 

“It means Always and Forever, John”.

John turned his head, his eyes shining with unshed tears “I know Harold”. He smiled. Replacing the ring He stood and walked around the sofa and gathered Harold into his arms.

“Today has been the most perfect day”. 

Harold nodded; “It’s not over yet”, he said. They kissed and then headed for the bedroom. Much Later laying together limbs entwined they talked. After a while John took a deep breath and looking at Harold, said.

“If you could have one wish, Harold, anything you like, what would you wish for?”

Harold thought for a moment, he had more money than he’d ever be able to spend; he had properties and fine clothes. He could eat at the finest restaurants whenever he wanted, go anywhere do anything. Now John would be at his side in all of these things. There wasn’t a lot left to wish for. He smiled and pulled John closer. 

“The only thing I could possibly wish for, John, is to have met you sooner, to have done this sooner”. He gestured at their bodies.

Amused John said, “That’s two wishes Harold” and kissed him before he could say anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _in saecula saeculorum_ is Latin for Always and Forever (according to google translate).  
>  John got his statement ring in J is for Jealousy.


	24. X is for Xyst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The grounds were peaceful and quiet, perfect for an after dinner stroll.

Leaving the machine and the numbers in the capable hands of Shaw and Root, Harold and John had left for a holiday. They had gone to as many of the worlds interesting and famous places as they could manage. 

So far Harold had shown John the Taj Mahal in India, the Eiffel tower in Paris, and the Great Wall of China. They’d taken a glass bottomed boat to view the Great Barrier Reef. They’d been to St Mark’s in Venice, and even managed to visit Buckingham Palace in London. It was as exciting as it was exhausting and John loved every minute of it.

Harold had had something interesting to say about each place. John knew that he’d never remember all of the facts that Harold told him but he wold remember the places. Now finally they were in Rome looking at the Colosseum. They were walking around the ruin, Harold was explaining about the gladiator contests; and John was lost in thought trying to imagine what it may have been like.

Later they drove out into the countryside. Harold had chosen the villa for their last stop before returning to New York. The grounds were peaceful and quiet, perfect for an after dinner stroll. They came to a covered part of the garden; the flowers had been encouraged to grow over a high trellis like structure and each side was lined with trees. John stopped and, feeling romantic, pulled Harold into his arms and kissed him hard. Harold blushed and broke the kiss looking around to see if anyone was looking. Satisfied they really were alone he pulled John in closer for another breathless kiss.

They began walking again; the scent from the flowers was intoxicating. Harold began to talk as they walked, “Did you know John that where we are walking in ancient times was called a ‘Xyst’?”

“A what, Harold?”

“A Xyst, its pronounced zist”. He repeated. “It was used by athletes training for the Olympics in ancient Greece. It gave them a covered area to train if it was wet”.

John smirked; “Really?” he put his arm around Harold shoulders. Harold gave him his “Yes really, look” which made John laugh. 

They continued their walk back to their room. Soon, he mused, they would be back with the hustle and bustle of city life but for tonight they would relax and enjoy the atmosphere and each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X is the hardest letter of the alphabet. Finding a word that I could actually make a scene out of was hard too. So many words to do with plants, medical instruments and yellow teeth, just weren't right. In the end I went with Xyst.
> 
> Xyst is a long portico, used in ancient Greece for athletics and allowed the athletes to train whatever the weather. And in ancient Rome it was a covered garden walk or one lined with trees.


	25. Y is for Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harold hates separations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are at Y the penultimate letter in the alphabet.

Harold hates separations. John has had to go to California trailing the husband of a number they had in New York. There was no telling how long John would be. Harold wanted him home sooner rather than later.

Though he kept in contact with John, it wasn’t enough and several times over the next few days he contemplated taking their private jet and flying out to be with him. What stopped him was that he knew that John would be unhappy about him being there; he would be a distraction to him and also be in possible danger. When it came to Harold's safety there were no compromises as far as John was concerned, so he stayed put and fretted.

There were other numbers to be dealt with; Shaw and Root took care of them for him. Professor Whistler has papers to grade (boring!) and Bear to walk. These things only distract him for a short time. He has resorted to coding untill late at night, only retiring once he’d heard from John and knew he was safe.

Two more days pass and then John lets Harold know that the man has been caught and is in the hands of the local authorities. He will be coming home on the next available flight.

Harold waits at the airport for John to appear. As soon as his bags were in the car Harold drove them to their apartment. Once inside they settle down to debrief on the number, they have drinks and some food while they talk. 

Later they retire and John hugs Harold to him, inhaling his unique scent. Their kisses are passionate and unhurried; they have all night to explore each other. Harold strokes a finger along John’s jawline “Mine” he saiys.

His lips kiss a trail down John’s neck, nibbling, licking and gently sucking, tasting John’s skin. “Mine” he says again.

His hands slide lower over John’s chest, pausing to play with his nipples, he kisses each one “Mine” he whispers.

He moves lower to John’s groin, his hand stroking along John’s rapidly filling arousal. He looks into John’s eyes “Mine” he hums as he takes his cock into his mouth. 

John pulls Harold up to lie close to him, hugging him, he smiles and kisses him hard and says “Yours Harold, I’m yours, I will always be yours, now and forever”.


	26. Z is for Zoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Zoë” he whispered, “you came”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here it is number 26 the final installment.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has read, commented and encouraged me to keep going. Without your support I don't think I would have finished.
> 
> This final chapter is the longest and is a bit sad. Sorry about that.

Zoë was waiting for a car to come and take her to the hospital. Harold had sent for her, John was gravely ill and not expected to live for much longer. She had been surprised when Harold had suggested that she bring her son with her. She hadn’t realised that he knew about him.

Waiting was making her nervous; she worried about what she was going to say to John and to Harold. She and John had shared a very special relationship. It wasn’t romantic in the conventional sense, they weren’t in love, but it was more than just friends with benefits. She cared deeply for him and he returned her feelings. 

Then one night 10 years ago he’d taken her out to dinner, afterwards they’d gone back to her home. One thing had led to another and they had ended up in her bed. Sex with John was something she savoured he was an attentive lover; he knew her body almost as well as she did. Passions spent they had lain together; he had looked at her with his glorious blue eyes and started to speak.

She had put a finger on his lips; she’d had an idea what he was going to say. She didn’t need to hear him say that this was the last time he would share her bed. He was in love, she knew, had seen it every time he looked at Harold. A devilish thought had crossed her mind that night maybe they could try a threesome but she had never voiced it. In the morning he’d kissed her deeply and left. 

A few weeks later she’d begun vomiting in the morning; a test had confirmed she was pregnant. She didn’t tell John or Harold, leaving New York on business for a few months allowed her to quietly have her baby. The child was a boy and as he grew he looked more like his father every day, he had inherited his dark hair and startling blue eyes. 

The car drew up outside her home; she and Alex went down and got in. They rode to the hospital in silence; Harold met them at the entrance and led them to the ward. He didn’t say much, except that he was glad to see her, she had helped them so many times and he understood the relationship that she and John had shared. 

Taking a deep breath, Zoë took hold of her sons hand and together they went into the ward. She was shocked at the sight before her. John was hooked up to several machines, he’d lost weight, his face pale and drawn, his beautiful tan had faded and there was a bluish tint to his lips. She felt tears pricking her eyes as she looked at him lying there.

Stepping closer, she sat in the chair by the bed and touched his hand, his fingers curled around her own and he opened his eyes. 

“Zoë” he whispered, “you came”. She smiled and nodded. 

“Of course I came” she said “I always come when you call”. 

He turned his head towards her son, “And who is this fine young man?” he asked.

Zoë took another deep breath, “John” she said quietly, “this is Alex”. 

He smiled “Pleased to meet you Alex”. He held out his hand, Alex looked at his mother and at her nod he carefully shook John’s hand. 

“I didn’t know you were married Zoë” he said “who’s the lucky man, anyone we know?”

She squeezed his hand, “I’m not married” she said smiling, tears threatening to fall, she paused “He’s your son John, Alex is yours”.

He was quiet for a moment, “You’re sure?”

She nodded, “Remember that last night we spent together?”

He smiled, “How could I forget”. He paused “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were with Harold”.

“Does he know?”

“Harold found out a few months ago”. 

Blinking his eyes he sighed “You should have told me”. 

“I know, but you were with Harold. I didn’t want to change that, you were in love with him not me. I didn’t want you to give him up for some noble gesture that meant you gave up your happiness”.

He smiled. “Well I’m glad you’ve told me now. Are you happy?” 

Smiling she said “Yes John, I’m very happy”.

John looked at Alex, “Alex, take care of your mother, she’s a very special lady”.

“I know sir, and I will” Alex shyly replied. 

John lifted his hand and smiling ruffled the boy’s hair, “Don’t call me sir”, he said “my name is John”. Alex nodded. “Ok, John”.

“He’s a good kid” she said, “takes after his father”. 

They talked quietly for a few minutes, reminiscing about the first time they’d met. Laughing at the way she tore the money in half, promising him the other half at the end of the evening.

He was smiling “And you never did give me the other half”.

“I know” she replied, “but I think you got it back in other ways”.

He huffed, “I’d still like to know where you got the paperclip that time we were handcuffed to the chairs in Veritan’s offices.” He touched his lips, “that was the first time you kissed me”.

“You remembered that?”

“I remember all of your kisses, Zoë”. He winked at her “and where they were”.

She put a finger on his lips as she had done all those nights ago. “Not in front of Alex” she whispered.

Then she stood up and leant over kissing him on the lips. “I’m going now” she said. “I’ll come and visit you again soon; don’t you go anywhere will you?”

There was a sparkle in his eyes that reminded her of the times they had spent together as he joked that he didn’t intend on going anywhere.

He squeezed her hand and she left the room. Harold stopped her as she left, “Thank you for coming” he said.

She smiled nodding, not trusting her voice and left the hospital. Harold went back into the room, John was asleep. He sat down and began to talk quietly to him.

A few days later Zoë had a message from Harold to say that John had passed away peacefully in his sleep.

On hearing the news she wept openly for the man who had saved her life in the beginning, and gone on to be a great friend and passionate lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive the terrible dialogue, it's not something I'm very good at.


End file.
